Vanity's Bane
by ShanniC
Summary: Arnold, a famous crime novelist is accused of the brutal murder of Lila Sawyer. With such negative publicity surrounding his upcoming trial, no one will take the case. Arnold seeks out the aid of Helga G. Pataki, Hillwood's toughest defense attorney.
1. Reasonable Doubt

Author's Notes: Arnold, a famous crime novelist is accused of the brutal murder Lila Sawyer. With such negative publicity surrounding his upcoming trial, every lawyer in the city refuses to take the case. Finally, Arnold seeks out the assistance of his one time lover, the toughest defense attorney in the district, Helga G. Pataki. Will she represent her one time paramour? This is my first Hey Arnold story. I really hope that you enjoy this. I just want to say thank you to all of the Hey Arnold writers out there for writing HA fiction. I also want to give a shout out to my favorite HA writers: DarthRoden, BratChild2, Silver Kitten, and Poison Ivory. Anyway this is a story in which the kids are adults, and should be considered a mystery romance. Check out my C2:** ID c2/4/0/1**

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.

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**Vanity's Bane**

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Chapter One: Reasonable Doubt

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At twenty-eight years old, Zeke Spartan was one of the dumbest criminals that Helga Pataki had ever encountered. He was a blonde haired country bumpkin that was born south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Transplanted from the cornfields of Plains, Georgia the young man managed to make it to Seattle, Washington where he had enjoyed a brief life of crime. Unfortunately, he was neither clever nor discreet in his behavior and he eventually landed himself in the Hillwood City Jail. He was overweight, with a rather large potbelly, and he lacked the majority of his upper teeth. When she first encountered him, his shoes had been scuffed and dirty, and his clothes were dingy. He smelled of urine and beer, but also a mixture of blood and vomit.

Aside from his offensive appearance, he was nevertheless her client. It was her duty to represent the scourge of the city. She sat beside him, thankful that he had at least bathed, and changed clothes. He now sported the typical orange jumpsuit worn by all of the defendants in the courtroom. Sighing softly, Helga wondered why she had agreed to take this particular case. Closing her eyes, Helga gritted her teeth, recalling the numerous favors that her childhood friend, Harold Berman, the now decorated police officer had provided her. Zeke Spartan was a twice removed cousin, but she had owed Harold for a few tips that led to a small number of her courtroom victories, and because of this she had agreed to represent Zeke pro bono.

"Ms. Pataki, how does the defendant plead?"

She opened her eyes, and stared into the harsh face of Judge Melinda Green. Smiling lightly, she stood to her feet, announcing her client's plea.

"The defendant pleads guilty your honor."

Helga announced, pitifully managing to stifle a yawn. These types of open and shut cases took less than fifteen minutes. She got in and she got out. Occasionally however, a know-it-all would try to pull a Perry Mason in the court, and either decides to represent themselves, or worse yet plea not guilty and waste the court's time. In these boring moments, in which she would ponder the inanity of her profession that she would wonder what possessed her to become a defense attorney in the first place. The judge adjourned the court, giving Zeke Spartan the usual sentence for repeat offenders such as himself.

Helga glanced at her client with peripheral vision. He didn't look like much, but she guessed that he would be back on the streets committing more petty crimes within the year. Sighing at the futility of it all, Helga grabbed her bags and things, but not before giving the typical stay-out-of-trouble speech. Zeke took it all in stride, as if he were not really hearing his lawyer at all. She wrapped her large overcoat about her body, grimacing as the bitter cold nipped at her face. If only she could be elsewhere, because anywhere was better than Hillwood in the winter. She lamented her lack of a social life, while remembering that she had meetings all week, with no chance for having dinner with her best friend Phoebe Hyerdahl.

The drive to her apartment was agonizingly slow. It seemed as if everyone had chosen to leave and return to their homes all at once. There was a bright spot in her dreary day however. The slow drive her home gave her time to think about where she was with her life. She had only been practicing law for three years, but she had managed to work her way up in the District Attorney's office. Inside the old, but warm building of Hillwood City's Municipal Court, she was known as the Tiger Lady. As one of Hillwood's best and brightest, no one could currently match up to her legal prowess. Aside from Phoebe, there was no other lawyer that she felt could best her as a defense attorney. Of course, they had both went to the same college, and the same law school, which had been a life saver for both. While Helga had managed to finally coax her best friend out of her shy shell, when they were in law school, the tables had turned, and Phoebe had become the one to always rescue Helga. Helga turned unto her exit ramp, and quickly dialed Phoebe's number. Perhaps if she rushed, they could still make dinner together. The phone rang three times, before a breathless young woman answered the phone.

"Hello?"

Phoebe answered huffily.

"Hey, Pheebs. I was wondering if you still wanted to get together. I'm finally off of work."

Helga stated as she entered her sensible brownstone apartment. All around the floor was a mess of clothes and shoes. She frowned, remembering that she had not cleaned her apartment in a week. Thankfully, today was Thursday, and soon she would have the weekend to relax and get things done at home. Her dogs Charlie, Russell, and Simba raced to her feet, barking happily. After feeding the dogs, she settled down unto the couch, enjoying a warm cup of cocoa. After she finished that, Helga attacked her small bowl of soft serve ice cream, loving the milk chocolate flavor. Sighing contentedly, Helga temporarily forgot that she would be spending the night alone.

"I'm sorry Helga, but Devon already drove us to the restaurant. We were going to wait for you there. We could wait for you if you'd like. I know you could get to the restaurant in a relatively short time."

Helga frowned, knowing full well that Phoebe rarely got to spend time with her boyfriend, let alone in an intimate setting. She didn't want to impose, and she knew that even if she did choose to attend, Devon would be glaring at her as if she were the fifth wheel all night long. Besides, she had already had her ice cream and warm cocoa. It really was too cold to go outside, and she had cleaning to do anyway.

"No, it's okay. You two should go out and have a good time. I've got cleaning to do anyway. You've seen how messy my apartment can get. How about we go out shopping tomorrow? I need something for the annual bar association's party."

Helga could hear Phoebe sigh softly over the phone. _Here we go again. Why can't Pheebs just admit she wants to see Geraldo again? _Every time she mentioned anything remotely celebratory, that Gerald may be attending Phoebe clammed up. This process was not anything new, nor was it surprising. Phoebe had not been in a relationship with Gerald for three years now. They had both moved on, but apparently Phoebe hadn't moved far enough. Though their split was amicable, she couldn't even seem to want to be in the same room as him. Helga did not understand why exactly, because Phoebe never fully divulged that information. Although Gerald had not been in Hillwood for nearly a year, everyone knew he had taken a job with the CIA. Still, he had been popular among the law crowd, when he had been taken on as a consultant in some cases.

"If you must insist, I'll do it. Devon said he has a surprise for me. Anyway, we're almost at McNally's. I'll call you later, okay?"

Phoebe answered softly.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later. Bye Pheebs."

Helga said, with a slight yawn, not hearing Phoebe's reply. Helga placed the cordless phone on its charger. Stretching in her warm sweatshirt, she began the tedious task of cleaning her home. Soon, she had the majority of her clutter organized or thrown away. There were so many different boxes in which she housed her treasured secrets and memories. Beneath her large array of sports equipment, laid a faded pink cardboard box. She gulped, running her and along the velvet cover. Inside, she rummaged through the various pictures she had taken with Arnold. Tears welled in her eyes as she was reminded of their bitter break up. Things had been great for the first two years, but when the deception and lies began neither she nor Arnold could stand to be together any longer.

Why couldn't they have trusted one another? All the love and faith she had once held for Arnold seemed to have vanished the moment they dissolved their union. She had numerous flings and even a few relationships since then, but never had she had a solid relationship with any man since. Why had things ended so badly for the both of them? His fame and her inability to trust him had been a disastrous combination. She had felt as if she were on the outside looking in when she had been with Arnold. When she had been a little girl, she always believed in the fantasy, the magical feeling that she would have once they were together. Unfortunately her fanciful dream was not realistic. Perhaps she had wanted too much and not given him nearly enough. It was all pointless now.

She closed the box, wondering silently why she couldn't throw away the love letters that had been held within. That box held nothing but wistful memories for her, but why had she held on to it as if it were a cherished gift? The poems she had written for him, and the pictures they had taken still meant something, even if they weren't together. There were other boxes, which held private poems that she had never showed to anyone. Inside those boxes were works that she once foolishly wished she could publish. Yet, they too were reminders of dreams that could never be. She tidied up her closet, glancing around her newly cleaned apartment. She had been so immersed in her work, that she had not realized how late it now was. After working for three hours, she quickly showered, brushing her teeth and heading for bed. Phoebe was probably having a late night with Devon, and she didn't want to interrupt their amorous evening. She snuggled into the heated covers, falling into a peaceful slumber.

The sound of her beeping answering machine awoke her. Helga hated the sound of the machine, but it was necessary, and as attorney she could not afford to miss important messages. Morning had arrived, and with it came the early sounds of her neighbors being as nosy as they could be. The Morgans, an African American family that lived above her were probably sitting down to breakfast. The Sabatos, the Hispanic couple that lived below were always lively on weekends when they prepared for their weekly picnics. She liked her neighbors very much, even though she didn't really talk to them as much as she liked. Brewing her morning cappuccino, Helga combed her hair, and went outside to fetch the paper. On the front page of the Hillwood Post-Legder, was the face of her former paramour. Arnold, who was wearing a nice navy, Armani suit was handcuffed, and appeared to look distraught in the photo. She read the article thoroughly, nearly choking on her coffee, as she read of his charges. He had been accused of murder! Helga read the article six more times, before rushing to the phone. Just as she was about to dial, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Helga, where have you been? Why haven't you answered your phone? I've left thirteen messages!"

Phoebe's rushed voice yelled out. Helga pulled the receiver away from her ear, wincing at the noise. She checked the machine, and saw that she had over twenty messages. Of the thirteen messages Phoebe had left, three had been from Harold, and two from her associates' office and five had been from her secretary.

"Phoebe, Arnold has been charged with murder! There is no way that Footballhead could be guilty of murder! I can't believe this. Arnold would never kill anyone, especially not Lila Sawyer!"

"I agree, Helga. Our firm has already been bombarded with calls from his publicist. Apparently, no one in the firm is willing to take the case, and you know I would, but I am barred from doing so. They say it would be a conflict of interest because I know him personally. Anyway, he has already been released on bond, and his arraignment is Tuesday."

"You would not be able to fully represent him anyway, Pheebs. You're a tax lawyer, and while you are excellent at tax law, we both know that you wouldn't be able to defend him. I wonder who he will find to represent him. It all seems like a bad dream you know? We grew up with Lila. How could she be dead? He's a celebrity, and we both know that he'll be massacred in the press. I hope he gets a great lawyer. Listen, I've got so many messages that need to be answered. I'll have to talk to you later, alright?"

"Uh huh. I'll see if I can drop by your office. Ciao."

Phoebe replied, ending the connection. Helga played the messages one by one, skipping over Phoebe's. Harold had called to ask if she had heard about Arnold. In fact, out of the other ten messages, only two had been nondescript. These were from her associates. The great thing about private practices was that she was the boss. After her father had made a large fortune expanding his business to include all communication devices, and then purchasing smaller businesses, he had given her a partial inheritance, as means to 'make peace'. In the beginning, Helga had declined the offer. She did not want any assistance from the man that had constantly ignored her for the majority of her life. However, upon exiting law school, she did not like any of the offers that she had been given. Her experiences in the _Kravitz__, Wyler, and Thanes_ law firm had been horrible. She put in so much work, and none of it had been appreciated. Finally, she agreed to take her father's offer, and after four years, her small practice had gradually bloomed.

Helga had offered to take on Phoebe as a full partner, but Phoebe was happy in the boring world of corporate tax law. The law offices of Helga G. Pataki were bustling. All around her, she could hear her coworkers chatting wildly as if they had just heard the biggest news. Everyone that had been working with her for over five years knew that she had been seeing Arnold. She was not surprised that so many had shown up for work this Friday, considering the fact that she usually had a strict casual Friday policy. She tended to be lenient with the staff on Friday, so that they could all be happy and compliant throughout the week. A happy staff was a productive staff. Today however, was much different than any other day. News of Arnold's arrest had spread quickly through the building. She entered her office quickly, frowning as she saw all the pink post it notes on her desk. As soon as she sat down, her secretary swarmed in. Allen Thundercloud was a twenty year old journalism student that had been hired part time, so as to alleviate the load that was placed on her afternoon secretary.

He was a very handsome young man, with long silky hair. His Native American heritage was apparent in his voice and his features. Although she enjoyed his company, his entering her office now, signaled unwanted news. He plopped the morning paper on his desk, along with her schedule. She placed the paper aside, having already read it at home. She scanned her meetings for the day. Helga barely had time for lunch with Phoebe.

"Ms. Pataki, a Mr. Nathaniel Davidson has repeatedly called the office, asking that you return his call. He says it's urgent. I believe it concerns the Arnold—"

"Who is Nathaniel Davidson?"

Helga interrupted, wanting to change the subject from Arnold's troubles. Allen stated, walking out the door. The name did sound vaguely familiar. Hadn't Davidson been Arnold's publicist while they were still going out? What could he want with her? She was just about to dial when she heard a loud banging noise, and yelling outside her door. Rushing outside to see the commotion, Helga nearly fell over in shock at the man that stood arguing with one of the clerks.

"Arnold? What are you doing here?"

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Footnotes: That's all for now folks. I'll try updating in a timely fashion. Please review, and thank you for reading this story. Don't forget to read my HA poems. Now for my shameless plug: check my c2 out at http: www. fanfiction. net /c2/4/0/1 There are some pretty cool stories there, and a couple of them are HA fics! Okay, that's it for now. Peace.

-Shanni


	2. Probable Cause

Author's Notes: Last time, Helga and Phoebe had discovered that Arnold was charged with the murder of Lila. Thanks to the following for reviewing: Blonde Cecile: I am used to blocks of paragraphs, because I always hated reading a line and then break, and so on and so forth. As for the grammar, I'll check it over. Ahhelga: I'm glad to know that you're hooked. You'll eventually find out why no one will take Arnold's case. Em: Thank you for the compliment. Nicaxia: Thank you very much. I try to convey the characters personalities, without dabbling in drab descriptions. How's this for a quick update?

Disclaimer: I still do not own Hey Arnold. However a certain little pink book would be nice.

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**Vanity's Bane**

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Chapter Two: Probable Cause

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Before Helga could protest Arnold's presence in the building, he walked passed her, and took a seat inside her office. Allen quirked an eyebrow at the man's audacity, but thankfully he chose not to comment. Casting Helga a concerned look, he closed the door to her office, allowing them privacy. Suddenly, Helga felt as if she were thirteen again. She could feel his soft eyes watching her intensely, and his scrutiny unnerved her. They had not been together in over two years, yet here she was acting so nervous. She felt angered at her inability to remain calm and collected. She was a lawyer for goodness sake! She was not some grade school girl fawning over her first crush. She could not reflect much longer while in her silent reverie, for Arnold chose this time to break through the silent plateau.

"You know why I have come."

He stated simply. Helga's breath caught in her throat, but somehow she manages a weak nod of understanding. Of course she knew why Arnold had chose to visit her, but she was neither pleased nor grateful. Still, Helga owed it to herself to hear Arnold out. She gripped her lucky dragon pen, an exquisite ballpoint that had been a gift from her best friend. The fancy pen provided a visual distraction while he spoke. She could not bring herself to look into his eyes.

"I need you."

Helga exhaled the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Those three words fell from his lips so smoothly, that Helga could feel the words float above the room. How many times has she longed to hear him say those exact words? Of course, the reality of his statement came crashing down. There was no one else that had been willing to represent Arnold. He had nowhere else to go, and in a measure of final desperation, he chose her the woman that he would most likely enjoy never seeing again. Biting her lip, she wondered if her emotions had betrayed by her face.

"Why?"

She asked softly, knowing that they were both having different conversations. Arnold's life was on the line, and she was more engrossed in a fictional conversation that should have been held two and half years ago. Shaking her head, she drew her attention away from the pen that she lazily fumbled with. Staring into deep green eyes, she realized that now was not the time to daydream about what once was. His sigh made her legs quiver, but thankfully they were hidden under a large oak desk.

"You know why Helga. I need your expertise. You are the best defense attorney in the city. I can't trust my future in the hands of the D.A.'s office. I need someone that knows what they are doing. I need you on this Helga. I would think that despite our past that perhaps you could put it behind you, if not temporarily."

Helga eyed Arnold fully now. The self-conscious school girl persona disappeared, if momentarily. His case was barely a week old, and already there was no one that would be willing to represent him. News traveled fast, but never that fast. Arnold was a celebrity, and as such he should have had lawyers clambering to represent him. Something foul was definitely afoot. Arnold did have the option of being represented by a public defender, but they usually were underpaid, and overworked. It was because of this, the public defenders almost always overlooked important facts or worse yet, proved their incompetence. The rule was always quite simple in cases like Arnold's. If you can afford an attorney, hire one. Of the numerous people that had been close to him growing up, Phoebe and she were the only people that had become lawyers.

"Why not hire someone out of state? You could probably get more bang for your buck."

She replied, ready to gauge his reaction to her subtle jibe. Whether or not Arnold was annoyed, she could not tell. He shook his head repeatedly, clearly upset with the idea. He wanted her, and he _needed_ her and he would not be swayed. She was his only option, and she was the best option.

"No one has been as close to me as you have, that happens to be an attorney. Phoebe was an alternative originally, but she is a tax lawyer, and the last time she saw the inside of a courtroom was probably during a mock trial as a third year law student. You have known me since I was three years old. You knew Lila and you can attest to my character. I need you, Pataki."

Arnold said countered, unconsciously using her last name. When they had been together, her last name had become a sort of pet name. At first Helga had been annoyed by his usage of her surname, but over time she had grown attached to the moniker. Arnold watched her anxious fidgeting, and allowed himself a small smile. She was obviously cracking, and soon he would wear her down completely. If he could hire someone as competent and as thorough as Helga he would have, but there was no else that met all of his prerequisites.

"Helga, discovery will begin in my trial in a month and a half. The indictment was swift, and now with the case they are building against me—I need you on my team. If you do not wish to represent me, than can you please say so now? My life is on the line for a murder than I did not commit! Now for the last time, will you represent me?"

Arnold pleaded with urgency in his voice that Helga had never heard before. Then again, he had never had cause to be so desperate for something. If ever there were a time for his behavior, now he would be justified. Arnold had made a good point though. Despite everything that they had endured because of one another, Helga could not stand by and watch him be sent to prison for a crime Arnold could never have committed. Even if she had never loved him, Helga could never believe that Arnold was capable of such a heinous crime.

"I bill $370 an hour, Arnold. This does not include business lunches."

"So you decided to raise your rates. I always knew that you would be charging big money to your clientele. I just never thought I would need your services. I can write you a check, but the bank closes in three hours. I doubt you will have time to cash the check, but you could always take cash payments instead. Can you have someone draw up the contract?"

Helga had always been amazed by the alacrity in which Arnold conducted his business. She always wondered why he had never sought out a profession in law, but he declared his love of writing to have too much of a hold on him. His knowledge of the law was thorough and near the level of a second year law student. Considering that he had never been to law school, this was pretty impressive feat. She called in a Jenny, her thirty seven year old paralegal and had her draw up the contracts. They sat in awkward silence, waiting for the copies to be finished. Helga desperately wanted to hear the facts of the case as he saw them but she knew that they were not in a binding contract as of yet.

"I'll be suing a few newspapers for libel if things get out of hand."

Arnold said suddenly, glancing at his watch impatiently. Helga wanted to know which papers he was referring to, but she didn't bother asking. There were too many papers to name that routinely were sued by celebrities. Finally, Jenny returned with the contracts. They both read the document thoroughly, until they were both satisfied. They both called the court appointed notary three blocks over, and had the elderly man witness their signatures. Arnold then retained her services at the meager price of $420. He smiled sheepishly, noting that this was all the cash that he carried around at the moment. Once he received his receipt, he pocketed the slip of paper.

"Now that this business is settled, let's go to one of your private boardrooms. I'll tell you what really happened a week ago."

Arnold stood, walking to the door. Holding it open for her, Helga gathered her legal pads, tape recorder, and a few pens. As she walked by, he inhaled the scent of her raspberry scented shampoo. As always Helga's clothing was immaculate, and she was still as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. They walked in companionable silence to her corner office boardroom. Of the few they passed, a few of her coworkers (most of the young ones at least) gave them nervous smiles. Perhaps they were intimidated by Arnold's presence, or awed by his celebrity. Helga did not give the thought much reflection. Entering the boardroom, she felt a cool chill, and silently reminded herself to have maintenance adjust the heat in the room. They sat facing one another, and while Arnold poured himself a glass of water, Helga prepared herself.

"Okay, let's start from the beginning. What exactly was your relationship with Lila Sawyer?"

"We were dating casually. There was nothing serious, since she was dating other men at the same time that she was seeing me."

Helga silently wrote down his response. The bitter, petty side of her was both annoyed and heartbroken at the thought of Arnold having seen Ms. Perfect Prissy. Suddenly, she felt ashamed of her thoughts. A woman was dead, and Helga had the gall to make light of something so serious?

"When was the last time that you saw her alive?"

"The last time I was with Lila was a week ago. We had tickets to see _A Raisin in the Sun_. We went to the play house near Lexington and Berlet Street. After we saw the play, I took her to that Italian restaurant on Galen Avenue. Once we finished dinner we parted ways, at about ten pm. I didn't call her when I got home. This was the last time I had seen her alive."

Helga didn't want to know why he had taken Lila to the same restaurant that the two of them had frequented, and christened 'their place', but she did want to know why they hadn't gone to back Lila's apartment, or for that matter his own. Lila would have jumped at the chance to get into Arnold's pants _again_. Helga made a mental note of his statement.

"Who can attest to your statement? Do you have ticket stubs from the playhouse? Did you keep your receipt from the Italian restaurant? You need an alibi from the time you last saw Lila, all the way up to the time Lila was killed."

"That's pretty simple. I kept my ticket stubs from the play, as you know I always do. I paid with a credit card at the restaurant, and I always keep my receipt. As for the time in between our date, and her murder I went home and began the first draft for my third novel. I also called Gerald before I went to sleep."

Helga jotted down his comments, thinking about the many different ways the prosecution could tear down his statements. What was the motive here? Who would benefit from Lila's death? If there was no direct benefit from her murder, who would be happy to see Lila dead? She would need to compile a list of the people Lila had been closest to, and then prepare subpoenas.

"Why did you call Gerald so late? If you didn't get back from your date with Lila until late in the night, then you would have woken him up in the wee hours of the morning. He's in D.C. and he's hours ahead of you."

Arnold stiffened slightly. He could not very well tell her that he called Gerald to discuss Helga? Their cross country late night chats had become routine now. Gerald worked odd hours and since he was his own employer, they frequently would talk on the phone about everything from family, money, jobs, sports, and of course the former women in their lives. Gerald would always ask about how Phoebe was doing. Of course, he never broached the topic of Helga unless Gerald specifically asked him. Still, he would have to answer her question truthfully. Though the last half of her question may have seemed irrelevant, if they could confirm the call, then that would further affirm his story and place him away from the crime.

"Gerald and I routinely talk every few days, and I called him to talk about my disastrous date with Lila."

"So you didn't have a good time on the date. The state could say that you were so upset with your time spent with Lila that you killed her."

Helga replied, writing swiftly as he spoke. This was in fact a weak defense, but only she had only mentioned it because she wanted to see his reaction.

"Perhaps, but I was unhappy and dissatisfied with our date. That is not enough of a motive to murder her. There is no history of bad blood between us, so I would not have cause to kill her. I think that stretching it a bit, Helga. My record is clean and I have no prior history of violence of any sort."

Helga could feel a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to ask who him who was the lawyer and who was the client here, but that would have been petty. At least she knew it would not be hard to prepare Arnold for the state's cross examination.

"The autopsy reports have not been finished yet. I am highly suspicious of this case Arnold. For one thing, you were just indicted yesterday, but the news of Lila's death was released at the same time. According to your statements, Lila has been dead for more than a week, but the paper lists her as having died the night before. Even with a large amount of evidence, no one could be charged with murder that quickly unless they were found present at the scene of the crime, and the police had irrefutable evidence."

"So you're saying that I am being framed."

Arnold spoke with cool brevity. The very thought of someone out there despising him to the extent of framing him disturbed Arnold greatly. He had barely had time to grieve. Her funeral was tomorrow and he had been barred from attending. His home had been bombarded with calls from friends, and foe alike wanting to know if he really did kill his childhood friend. If his grandparents were alive to witness this debacle they would be heartbroken.

"Now I didn't say _that,_ Arnold. However, this case _is_ highly suspect. Any competent attorney can see that everything is happening too quickly. This case has been fast tracked at an alarming rate. How can the newspapers say that she died of stabbing wounds when the autopsy isn't even finished? Moreover, why would the paper wait until a week _later_ to release news of her death? The news of a stabbing victim would have been ready the next day."

"What we have here is someone that has conspired to kill Lila, frame me, and manipulate the proceedings of the case. I find it hard to believe that someone could kill Lila, and orchestrate something so complex, yet manage to be lax when covering their own tracks. There could be multiple conspirators, and perhaps the weakest link let this happen."

"Maybe, but the disparity in your story, and the snafu with the paper brings forth many questions. I'm calling the D.A.'s office, and then the Ledger-Post to straighten this out. Do you know of enemies that Lila may have had? Any business deals gone bad?"

Helga asked, sipping the ice cold water. She could not think of anyone that had ever hated Lila Sawyer. While Helga had never particularly liked the young woman, they did not frequent the same social circles, and the last time that she had seen Lila had been on a cosmetic commercial. Lila had been an upcoming model; with a couple of lucrative modeling contracts as far as Helga could surmise. A wave of guilt washed over her as she reminded that they had never buried the hatchet.

"Listen, can we continue this tomorrow? I have a meeting with my publicist and I need to schedule a press conference. I assume that you will leave your schedule open? I'll send you the remainder of your fee by mail."

Helga sat with her mouth agape, astonished by his words. Didn't he realize the importance of this case? Now was not the time to be gallivanting off with his public relations people. Then there was his cool self confidence that either annoyed her or made him more admirable in her eyes. She nodded weakly, shook his hand and watched as Arnold walked out of the room. They bid one another farewell, and she reminded him to set up an appointment with her secretary. What in the hell was going on here? Since when did he act so abrupt with her? She sighed, wringing her hands.

Maybe she was taking this case too personal. If she allowed her feelings for Arnold to get in the way of her ability to win his case, she would have failed them both. Settings aside her dormant love would be hard, especially since they would be seeing so much of one another, but as an attorney she owed it to her clients to maintain a professional demeanor. Seeing Arnold so composed, while she had been visibly flustered made her want to work even harder to succeed.

Helga gathered her legal pads, one of them already filled to the brim with notes and she filed them into the office vault. After her experiences with _Kravitz Wyler, and Thanes_, she knew enough about keeping files out of file cabinets that could easily be broken into. Thankfully her practice could afford a medium sized vault that could house the original hard copies of the files of every client. Every lawyer and paralegal in the building had access to the vault. However, she had issued access cards for every client's documents. Those cards could be used to enter the indestructible lockboxes that each client had. Once Helga had stored her notes safely away, she would return and create electronic files of her notes. Helga grimaced as her stomach growled. She had missed her lunch date with Phoebe.

"Well old girl, it looks like you've gotten yourself into a serious mess. I'm in too deep now to pull out."

She whispered aloud, heading for the city morgue. Truthfully, she would never have been satisfied with anyone else representing Arnold. No one else was a qualified, and she just could let bear to see that football head sent to prison when he was clearly innocent.

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Footnotes: Yeah, so that was it for now. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next update. Lastly, what was Xing thinking with this **QuikEdit mess**? I miss the way we could update back in 2001! The link posting, changing the text color, and changing the background colors was pretty cool. Peace.

-Shanni


	3. Quid Pro Quo

Author's Notes: It's been a while, but I have been busy with work, school, and now I've been picked for jury duty on top of that! I know excuses, excuses, but I am here now and that is what is important. Last time, Arnold and Helga thoroughly discussed his case; Although Helga believes that he is being framed. Thanks to the following for reviewing: ahhelga: I love Law and Order, John Grisham etc. etc. My older brother is in law school, and my sister will be entering next fall, Arnold Summers: Your HA-ER story evokes the same feeling, S.L.Cipher: you finally updated Years Later , and raine84: We'll see how events, but rest assured Helga is innocent of murdering Lila, but is she completely innocent?

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.

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**Vanity's Bane**

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Chapter Three: Quid Pro Quo

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"Do you think that he's guilty?"

Helga asked munching on a carrot stick. She grimaced at the taste, but gulped down the crunchy vegetable anyway. Surprisingly, the visit to the morgue had left her feeling hungry. Apparently, seeing dead bodies did not deter her hunger. The rabbit food she ate was healthy, but tasted too bland. If only she hadn't binged on candy earlier in the week. The things that she did to herself for the sake of staying in shape were appalling at times. Her lunch companion, enjoying his thick juicy burger smirked as she downed the nasty looking cauliflower. Harold simply grinned as she eyed his burger hungrily while stabbing at her limp floret of broccoli. Taking a sip of his amaretto, Harold smiled at her behavior.

The weekly outings that the two shared had become a ritual of sorts. Ever since they began attending Wrestle-mania together back in grade school, both Helga and Harold would enjoy a sporting event together and then have lunch. Now that they were professional working adults, they both made time for at least one meal together during the week. Helga reached for Harold's pickle chips, but her hand was slapped away. Harold rolled his eyes when Helga stuck her tongue at him childishly. Helga rubbed her hand gingerly, giving him an angry glare. Harold shrugged, obviously not feeling bad about the incident.

"Why don't you just order some real food Helga? You and I both know that you want the steak special. The problem with you and women in general is that you stick to diets religiously. Patti's always on about that South Beach diet, or some other nonsense. What's wrong with healthy protein once in a while?"

Helga swiped the last of his pickles as he spoke, popping them into her mouth triumphantly. Patti Berman was Harold's wife of six years, and just like Helga she enjoyed snatching food from Harold's plate when he was not looking. They had married straight out of high school, and Helga attended the wedding. These days finding a committed man in this city was like searching for needles in a haystack. It was a hope that she had long since given up. The two made a wonderful couple, and she was happy that they had finally tied the knot. Sighing contentedly, Helga leaned back in her chair patting her stomach happily. Harold ordered another round of drinks, celebrating being off duty for the weekend.

"That's because we women have to look good for you men, or you would not have us any other way. Well, you'd have Patti and she's beautiful so that counts for something. It's a shame that there are not enough men like you, Harold. But anyway, you never answered my question. Do you think that Arnold is guilty?"

Harold sighed, swallowing the last of his French fries. He knew that the question was bound to be broached sometime during their meal; he just hoped that he would not have to answer. The problem with being friends with a fellow member of law enforcement meant that he was not exempt from questions regarding cases, especially when they concerned childhood friends. Arnold had been a friend for quite some time. They had known one another since they were in preschool and he could never fathom the mild mannered man to be a murderer of any sort. Nevertheless, as Officer Berman the facts were hard to ignore. Any novice could see something was foul about his case, but he was still unsure if that made Arnold innocent.

"I think that Arnold is a good person of strong moral fiber. He is my friend and I will support him as best I can."

Harold answered delicately, showing diplomacy that Helga had forgotten her friend possessed. She smirked at his answer, but she needed to hear the truth, not double speak so that he could avoid the question entirely.

"I thought that we lawyers were only allowed to give the runaround. Seriously, Harold I'm asking for your honest opinion, not as an officer but as a friend. Arnold's in real trouble and it would help if his close friends believed in his innocence. I just don't want to be the only that believes his innocence simply because of our past personal history."

Harold sighed, taking the hand of the uncertain woman before him. Helga was almost always confident in everything that she did, but when it came to Arnold, all sense of knowing right from wrong abandoned her. Arnold had the strange power to make her into a totally new woman. Harold wasn't entirely sure if that was a good trait anymore. If she was who she was as a result of their break up, he did not know how to feel about that. He frowned slightly, his ire temporarily directed towards Arnold. He was the man that she be holding her hand, reminding her of what a wonderful person Helga was, not him. In fact, Arnold was not supposed to be on trial for the murder of Lila in the first place.

"Listen Helga, it won't matter what I think in the end. You are his attorney not I. You're the one that is going to keep him from prison. Now as a friend, I believe Arnold doesn't have a violent bone in his body. He has always been as a peaceful person for as long as we've known him. As an officer of the law, the evidence does point to him, but even _that_ is suspect. We should stop talking about this Helga. We already have what some would consider a conflict of interest by knowing Arnold so closely, and being law enforcement officers."

Helga nodded, leaning back in her chair. Harold made an excellent point, but she wanted to believe that she was not the only person that believed he was not guilty. It was imperative that she allow her head to guide her instead of her heart. Arnold needed a professional, not some woman tied emotionally to him. She would have to think critically, making sure that she took everything about the case into consideration. Helga bit her lip, a habit she had thought she had outgrown. Her anxiety was making her antsy, and the last thing she needed was to lose her cool. Helga gathered her coat, kissing Harold on the cheek.

"Hey, where are you going you need to pay your share Helga! Hey!"

Harold called out to his longtime friend, perplexed by her abrupt exit. Slapping a few bills on the counter, Harold ordered a cup of hot cocoa to go. Whatever epiphany the woman had experienced, he'd probably hear about it later.

"I've got to think. I'll call you tomorrow. Give my love to Patti. Oh and I'll pay the next time we go out."

Helga responded, rushing past busy waiters. She headed for her car, revving the engine she peeled out of the parking lot like a woman on a mission. She couldn't go to her apartment because of all the distractions it posed, but she couldn't go to her office either. She didn't like being there all alone. The big building left her feeling uncomfortable when she was the sole person inside. She could always crash at Phoebe's place for the night. Something about her visit to the morgue earlier in the day had left her suspicious.

Lila had died from multiple stab wounds to the chest and neck. Arnold's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. It did not take a _Law and Order_ junkie to see that the knife could have easily been swiped from his home, and used to kill Lila. When she held her meeting with Arnold they had only discussed the basic facts of the crime. She hadn't been able to ask him how tight his security was. Could Lila herself have taken the knife? No, she frowned, zooming through traffic. What purpose would stealing a butcher knife from Arnold's apartment achieve? Aside from being an obvious ploy to frame Arnold, Helga believed that things went deeper than that. Arnold hadn't been caught with the smoking gun, but his fingerprints matched.

Whoever had caused Arnold's trial to be expedited obviously had something to do with the murder itself. Someone wanted the trial sped up as quickly as possible. Even the police officers she had spoken to mentioned that this was unusual. The top brass were mum on the situation, but Helga knew something foul was afoot. She pulled into Phoebe's driveway, noticing a car that she hadn't seen before. Was Phoebe entertaining? _How could she hold a dinner party without inviting me?_ Helga thought wistfully.

She knocked on the door once, frowning as she heard muffled voices. When the door swung open she hadn't expected to see Gerald Johansen. Stepping back to the look at the tall handsome young black man before her, she suddenly smiled. He had certainly changed. He was still tall, smooth looking young man she had always known, but now he was growing a beard. His hair was trimmed low, and he wore the typical dark blue suit of a G-Man. Before she had known what happened, he embraced her. Helga returned the hug, feeling surprised that she still cared about the boy with whom she once shared a mutual dislike.

"Geraldo? What are you doing here, at Phoebe's no less?!"

Helga said, stepping into the warm apartment. Phoebe sat at the dining room table, giving Helga the 'we'll-talk-later' look. She embraced her best friend, sitting down at the empty seat across from Gerald.

"We just got back from Lila's wake. I came by because Phoebe wanted to talk and…"

He trailed off then, and the three young adults sat in awkward silence for a moment. Helga shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed because she had obviously walked in on a private moment. She had major work to do, and she knew that she should not be sitting around being a third wheel. She needed to get to the point.

"I stopped by because I was wondering if we could switch apartments for the night. The law library is closed, and you know how distracted I get at home, and how creepy my offices can be late at night. I see you're busy however. I'll just go on home. I have got serious work to do, what with Arnold's case. It was nice seeing you again Gerald but I'll be leaving now. I'll call you later Pheebs."

She said while gathering her purse and jacket. She should have called Phoebe before coming over. Usually, none of that mattered, but now with Gerald back in town, she supposed things would change now. She wished that they could have spoken on better terms than this. Perhaps they could catch up with one another some time later in the week. As she headed for her car, Gerald rushed out behind her.

"Wait Helga, I need to talk to you! I just wanted to warn you that I uh… spoke to Arnold and he's kind of waiting at your apartment. He really needs to speak with you about the case."

She nodded silently, but inside she screamed at the audacity of her former boyfriend. Who in the hell did he think he was? Yes, he was her client, but she had other clients that had serious cases just like his but they did not show up at her home! That football head would never learn, apparently.

"Thanks for the heads up Gerald. Listen, for what it's worth, I'll do my best to get Arnold off."

The young man smiled weakly. He offered his hand and they shook hands before he headed to Phoebe's warm apartment, and she headed home. He turned as Helga started the engine, with a somber look on his face.

"Maybe you and I can catch up later, just you and me. I mean we used to be cool right?"

"Yea we were. I'd like to think we can be again. Phoebe will give you my number. It was nice to see you again, although I hope we will have a chance to chat later on in the week. I wish it were on better terms. Goodnight Geraldo!"

Helga said weakly, zooming out of the Phoebe's driveway. Gerald's presence was a shock, but it was to be expected. She never did get to ask where they had met up, earlier in the day. She could talk with Phoebe about it later. Now she had a certain annoying client to deal with. The morgue director's words ran through her mind. Lila's body had been buried, and the autopsy report came back inconclusive. How in the hell could a stabbing victim have an inconclusive report? Either the doctor was grossly negligent, or maybe someone had switched the records.

When she arrived at her apartment, Arnold was there, standing dumbly outside her apartment. He gave her a meek smile, but they both knew he would see her ire. She trudged past him, not bothering to address him. As if on cue, Arnold entered the apartment behind her. He closed the door, standing by the coat stand sheepishly. Helga placed her briefcase and purse on the dining room table, kicking off her shoes in the process.

"I won't ask why you why you're standing outside my apartment this late at night, or why you insist on being a pest. I will however ask what it is you wanted to speak to me about. Surely, whatever emergency that you have could not have waited until the next business day?"

Arnold shrugged nonchalantly, helping himself to a glass of brandy. Helga frowned at Arnold, displeased with his ability to get so reacquainted with her home. He was treading on very thin ground. Even though she was his lawyer, he was beginning to cramp her personal space. He was not paying her enough to work solely on his case, and his behavior was borderline offensive.

"I just wanted to tell you that I may have discovered a connection in my case. After I left your office, my publicist informed me that I had received a fax from someone who claims to have seen me leave Lila's apartment before the murder took place. However this person, who only left me an email address and pager number, says that his or _her_ silence is because this witness wants to extort money from me. Can you believe that?"

Arnold asked, slamming his shot glass down angrily. Helga's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the new development. The message Arnold received was strange indeed, but it was also a clue that may have held some merit. She took out her legal pad, ready to document his speech. Chewing thoughtfully on her pen, a queer thought entered her mind.

"Whoever sent you that fax could be a nut just trying to get a rise out of you. This person may not know anything at all. It would be best if we did not do anything until we can prove that the person has information. Obviously there has been no new evidence we could use that this person was willing to share. I don't buy it."

"Why don't you?"

Arnold asked her, staring deeply into her eyes. Helga felt her cheeks flare, and that all too familiar tingling sensation erupted in her belly. She silently cursed Arnold's ability to make her feel so nervous and giddy.

"If I were going to try to extort money from someone in exchange for giving valuable information, I'd at least provide them with a tidbit, something that could be verified as true. That way they would believe me and I would actually be successful in getting money out of them."

Helga would have gone on, but Arnold's cell phone rang. She nodded to him as he left unto her terrace to talk privately. She waited calmly, mulling over the information in his case. The visit to the morgue had been a dead end. Harold was oddly about the way the police were investigating and she had not been able to get in touch with any of the D.A.'s assistant attorneys. Someone with many far reaching connections had managed to keep those lawyers from representing Arnold. Who could hold such political clout?

"That was my publicist, Vincent Edgewood. He wants to speak to you. I think he wants to know when you're available for a press conference. He says without you there to counter the attacks of the media, this could be detrimental to my career."

Helga couldn't help but roll her eyes at Arnold's statement. Arnold being charged with murder was detrimental to his career, and his life. Her absence at a press conference was a minor snag. Taking the cell phone from Arnold, she stretched in her seat, ready to speak with the infamous Vincent Edgewood.

"Hello?"

"Finally, I am speaking to the renowned Ms. Pataki?"

"This is she. Arnold tells me you want me to attend his press conference."

"Yes, that is exactly what I desire. Arnold needs you there at his side. Some of these vultures at _The Ledger _and_ The Post _are having a field day. I fear that anything that they print will be libelous in nature. Any questions stepping over legal boundaries of free press should be shot down by his gifted attorney."

Helga contemplated Edgewood's words silently. She knew that eventually she'd have to face the cameras with Arnold, and things would be as they once were. Before he had really achieved true fame with his second novel _She Descends with Grace, _Arnold had been a struggling writer, and she had been at his side. It seemed as if their relationship had been completely over with the publishing of his second book. With the book's popularity came the scrutiny of any rising star. Their relationship had been strained to the breaking point. Both had left feeling numb, although the other had no idea. As much as she might have wanted to be there in the glitz and glamour of it all, she had to wean herself off fame that could and would eventually fade.

Moreover, she would only be able to attend one of his press conferences anyway. If any more press conferences were planned than Arnold would appear guilty, searching for appeasement. She was slightly curious however to see the media's reaction to Arnold's lawyer. As his one time lover and childhood friend, the tabloids would eat all of that up. The last thing Helga needed or wanted was bad publicity for her up and coming law firm. Still, she and Arnold were in a binding contract, and she had promised to represent him. She had yet to receive snubs from her colleagues, but Helga had no doubt that they were on their way.

"I can only attend one conference. I really think you should quit with all these press conferences. That only helps the prosecution anyway because it makes Arnold appear anxious and guilty. We need him to exude the demeanor of a man confident in his innocence. Besides, I am his lawyer, and I cannot be expected to be pulled away from building my case for him if you are always meeting with the media. Is that understood, Mr. Edgewood?"

She could hear cackling in the background and she was positive that the man with whom she was speaking was no doubt bellowing with laughter. Perhaps he did not take things seriously, but the publicist would have to change his tune.

"It's understood crystal clear, Ms. Pataki. This will be the last conference for the duration of Arnold's trial unless it is absolutely necessary. The conference will be at the Marriott. Dress conservative, ten a.m. sharp Wednesday. My personal assistant will give you a press pass. If I may speak to Arnold once more…"

Helga passed the phone to Arnold, giving him her famous we-need-to-talk look. He frowned, remembering that look's power during the time when they had been together. Whatever had passed between his attorney and his publicist had not gone over well. He ended his conversation with Edgewood quickly turning to face Helga.

"You should fire Edgewood. I don't trust him. He could very well be involved with your framing. Thanks for giving me the info about extortionist. In the future fax something to my office, or call me. Do not show up at my home again Arnold. I'll review this new info in the morning, and keep you abreast of my proceedings. If you're going to be here, you might as well get comfortable. It's going to be a long night."

Helga said, while barely stifling a yawn. Tonight she and Arnold would go over every relationship that he had with his business partners and others who may have known Lila. In the morning she would have to hire a private investigator. For now, their focus was on finding any discrepancies in his case, and a connection between Lila's murderer and any other co-conspirators. Helga began brewing the coffee, preparing to drill her client thoroughly.

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Footnotes: It's been awhile but my aunt passed away, and I have been busy with my life's commitments. Thank you to all that are reading and reviewing my story. I appreciate this very much. Stay tuned for the next update, peace!


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